And so it rained. Not just for an hour, but throughout the day. Not just intermittent showers but heavy downpours that forced people into crowded tents, some shivering in sleeveless tops and summer shirts.

Yet cloudy skies and chilly winds failed to dampen the daring spirit of the hundreds who came on that first Sunday of June. As scheduled, the Philippine Festival went on. And they came, some with umbrellas and raincoats but many more just soaked it all up with a cavalier grin. Wet brings out the Pinoys at their best. Dry is not us.

Even on a sliver of Pennsylvania Avenue - between the Capitol and the White House - it was the only thing that kept the rest of downtown DC jumping: Filipinos, Filipino Americans and many others of different hues and heights, sizes and stripes savoring every bit of the wet experience while the rest of the world stayed dry in their comfort zones.

This was the scene all day: silver smoke rising from barbecue pits and the mouth-watering scent of familiar flavors attracting long queues, colorfully-decorated booths offering a smorgasbord of wit and wares, friendly faces serving up sodas and sermons, children in creative sprees recreating the day with dripping paint. Lesser mortals would have given up. But closing shop was not an option. The hardy bunch of volunteer organizers who have worked so hard for months to pull it off never gave it a thought. Despite dire predictions, the Fair Committee led by Ernie Cordero and Nick Tongson stayed up all night to put up the tents and get the place ready for the revelers who will surely come. And come they did in the early morning rain, staying through to the end, guzzling San Miguel beer with bosom buddies and wolfing down duck eggs (balut) in brazen defiance of the Fear Factor.

*GO HOKIES.* Perhaps it was the rain-or-shine spirit of Filipino American students from Virginia Tech that set the in-your-face mood. They’ve been through a lot lately. And foul weather wasn’t about to stop them from doing their “Bagobo” and “Sayaw sa Bangko” dances. That fired up the audience and the rest of the stage performers from Mabuhay, Inc., PACAS, FilAm Church , University of Maryland and UVA. Kudos to Annie Rivera for lining up a hearty band of troupers, including the musical talents of bands like “No Distinction” and “The Speaks.”

And the momentum just picked up from there, the clicking of bamboos and castanets mingling in rhythm with what seemed at times like a tropical storm. Which reminded me of my boyhood days in a farming village in Mindanao.

My brother and I couldn’t wait to take our clothes off so we could prance like crazy in the rain. I can still feel the gentle torrents of water streaming down my face. Rain didn’t keep us indoors. There’s something both sacred and seductive about the sound and the feel, and so we surrendered - as poet and author Reme Grefalda aptly puts it - to that “Greater Will out there that insists we play, who allows us to sustain our playfulness and to find time for that change of rhythm within our busy lives." No less than Philippine Ambassador Willy Gaa sensed that change of rhythm when he told the organizers to go on with the parade. Wearing a “salakot” and “barong”, the ambassador and Mrs. Gaa gamely led a contingent of Philippine Embassy staff, waving flags and greeting the crowd “Mabuhay” as they marched around the fair grounds. Following closely were a bevy of beauties in their ternos, all finalists in the Miss Teenage Philippines pageants.

The American colonizers may have taught us nursery rhymes like “Rain, rain, go away, come again another day," but on this day, we weren’t going to behave in the way we learned by rote. We can’t be denied and we’re here to stay - no matter what the bigots and nativists and xenophobes would say. *HEAD UP HIGH!* “This is our day!” shouted Raf Toledo of The Speaks, sending the mostly young generation into a screaming frenzy, belting out the day’s anthem with arms raised, fists pumping in the air, fingers reaching for the sky: “And dreams won’t die with tears in our eyes, you’ve got to hold your head up high!"

And high they did. Undaunted. Even in the rain their pride steamed, scalding everyone with their incendiary spirit as they staked their claim to this space, to this day, “our” day.

Perhaps we should consider not only sunny weather but also rain in planning our annual celebrations next time. In other cultures, rain festivals bring people together “to celebrate rebirth, commitment, understanding and responsibility in a physical and spiritual sense. It is a period for reflection, thanksgiving, cleansing and preparation." In Trinidad and Tobago , the Orissa Rain Festival is primarily celebrated to ask for the blessing of the deities. “The earth is considered the womb. The rain or semen impregnates the earth, making it bountiful as it provides water, food, shelter, beauty and happiness. The earth’s resources contribute immensely to our national well-being and that of the universe as a whole."

Now I know what photographer Paul Tanedo meant when he sent a message the day after the Fair: “I went knowing the rain’s gonna make it exciting.” And great fun - and the last laugh - was had by all.

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